


Relativity

by Mister_Rat



Category: Mr. Peabody & Sherman (2014)
Genre: Autobiography, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-12-30 19:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12115737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Rat/pseuds/Mister_Rat
Summary: "A state of dependence in which the existence or significance of one entity is solely dependent on that of another."In other words, how a special dog learns to rely on the people in his life.





	1. I Have Time

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Mr. Peabody and Sherman.

_"_ _Please take me there. I'm ready."_ _–_ _Dia Frampton_

_There's nearly nothing I can recall from before the shelter._

_Neither my birthplace nor my siblings (if there'd been any others), let alone my mother—or rather the canine responsible for my existence._

_Only lights._

_And howling and being carried—by teeth or arms, I can't say for sure._

_And red, a great deal of red, staining my fur._

_Then rain._

_I'm thankful my memory fails beyond those details, how I'd been too young back then to properly remember anything beyond my encounter with her._

_Her being the short chubby woman who came across my hiding place (an old trash can at the edge of the park, overturned courtesy of the wind), no doubt drawn to the emanating whimpers._

_I can't say the sight of a human suddenly looming over terrified me. Made me weary, yes, even with all my limited knowledge and innocence. And yet my reaction consisted only of violent shivers from the cold, fur bedraggled and discolored. Only a tragedy could have left my younger self desperate enough to hope for sanctuary from even a random stranger._

_As a young adult, I often pondered how I could remember her wrapping that old worn scarf around me and keeping me sheltered against her chest, jacket shielding my frail body from the rain, vividly and not the dog responsible for my existence._

_That musing no longer concerns me nowadays._

_As far as I am concerned, Miss Richie will always be the closest I've ever had to a mother._

_Sadly, my time in waiting would remain a while before I could truly call a place home._


	2. Silence Must Be Heard

_"_ _Read between the lines, no words just vibrations..."_ _– Enigma_

Even at so young an age, the pup recognized how he could produce sounds other dogs could not.

Just as he could bark and growl and whimper, he could also mimic the inflections spoken by the tall hairless not-dogs that dominated his world. Those same creatures also seemed to show fear of him whenever he demonstrated this skill—well, at least the one that scared him into the trash bin did.

Getting kicked in the side once provided enough incentive to stay quiet.

Yet even so, to make no use of these sounds seemed like a waste, and something about restriction to instinctual noises nettled him. For these reasons, he honed the ability to speak in secrecy, listening with rapt attention any time he heard the creatures speak so he could repeat them in privacy.

By the time he arrived at the shelter, he could already speak basic sentences in English and understood the meanings behind most of the language's common phrases.

A bittersweet achievement.

He had fluency, and no one to share it with him.


	3. Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some original characters will be popping up here and there but Peabody will remain the main focus. I’ll post below their name and voice actor whenever they first appear or when they’ve gotten older. I’ll also be doing the same for the canon characters:
> 
> Puppy Peabody – voiced by Cassandra Morris (Morgana from Persona 5)
> 
> Claire Richie – voiced by Susan Egan (Rose Quartz from Steven Universe, Megara from Hercules, Lin from Spirited Away)

_“Just wanna help you along.” – Blackmill_

The first time the pup spoke in front of a human, a jar of peanut butter nearly fell on his head.

Okay, first some context.

By the time this incident happened, he’d been residing at the shelter for a year, silent when necessary and ever observant of the occupants there, both canine and human alike. Particularly Claire Richie, the chubby petite brunette whom the pup followed around as much possible. His behavior never struck anyone as a surprise. Only natural that he’d form an attachment with the same woman who not only saved him from freezing to death but tended to his basic needs as well.

Not that you’d hear complaints from Claire’s end. Like with any cute animal, she doted on the baby dog since first sight without an ounce of hesitation. “Besides,” she once told a curious coworker one day during their lunch break together, “something about this one tells me he’s something real special.”

She had _no_ idea.

Meanwhile, the little dog had self-debated throughout his first year there on how he could return the favor to the human woman. He _did_ owe her after all, but just didn’t know how, never mind without revealing his...’quirks’ to everyone else here. He’d just found sanctuary and feared losing it so shortly.

Instead the timid puppy kept to his charade, taking care only to emit grunts and growls and other normal dog sounds. Anything else he saved for his alone time in the kennel (or alone as one can be in a room full of slumbering dogs), where he quietly rehearsed and rehearsed his first words of contact.

“I know this is really surprising for you, but—no. That won’t work.”

“Why yes, I’ve become quite skilled at—ugh. That sounds even worse!”

Okay, so strategizing the words took some time.

Still, for a plan concocted by someone his age, it held up for an impressive while. As far as any of the humans knew, he only stood out as the little puppy with the glasses—Claire bought him those slightly oversized spectacles on the basis that he’d be “safe and fashionable and cute all at the same time”.

 _Hmm, maybe telling her the truth wouldn’t be so bad_ , Peabody thought. Out of all the humans here, she’d taken to him the quickest despite sharing some of the same suppositions as her colleagues. Surely she’d understand.

Then one day the opportunity came at last.

He and Claire were hanging around in the communal kitchen during lunchtime like usual, the latter preparing her meal. That’s when she noticed him at her feet, staring up at her with those huge imploring green eyes. With the same amused smile a mother would give her child, she held out the jar of peanut butter.

“Would you like some, little guy?”

Looking her straight in the eye, the puppy sat up and opened his mouth.

“I would like some very much, thank you.”

Claire never screamed at the squeaky voice, never fell back on her butt and crab-walk away in terror, or even take a cautious step back. Just let her eyes grow wide and mouth fall agape. Barely managing to reclaim the jar that nearly slipped out of her loosened grip and holding it tight to her bosom like a ward, she regarded the puppy, seated on all fours like any regular dog, with shock and wonder.

When she finally spoke, the words came out soft and hesitant. “Um...what did you just say?”

One blink, two blinks before the puppy cleared his throat and spoke again, patient but more pressing in a way that only children can pull off regardless of species. “I said I would like some very much, thank you.”

The shelter worker blinked back, her dark brown eyes shifting between the jar and the dog several times before ending on the latter. She took a deep breath, muttering to herself all the while to ‘I’m calm, I’m cool’ three times, and then donned as composed a face as possible, eyes stern.

“Okay, you’re going to explain to me how long you knew how to talk and why you haven’t up until now.”

The pup nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Claire had no idea why the quick answer surprised her but it did. Her face and arms slacked. “Oh. Good. So...”

“I suppose I started to speak after I became conscientious of the fact that some of the sounds I made weren’t ones other dogs could do.”

Claire bit back the urge to correct the puppy on his use of ‘conscientious’. Instead she tapped a finger on the jar, thoughtful. “So you learned by listening to humans speak, right?”

The puppy nodded, happy that he finally had a collective name for the nice woman and the other beings here. “Not directly, though,” he looked away a moment, petulant, “People tend to run from me or kick me whenever I speak, so thank you for not doing either.”

The woman held back a grimace at that heartrending detail. “Um, n-no problem. So what are you going to do now?”

“I...I don’t know,” the tiny snowy dog admitted with a forlorn downcast gaze, “I don’t have a family or home to go back to.” Let alone any he could remember.

The woman let her eyes drift in thought before an idea came to her. “I might be able to do something about that.”

The puppy-child brightened instantly, tail wagging like mad. “Are you saying _you’ll_ be my family, Miss Richie?”

Wincing with bared teeth, Claire held back the part of her that wanted to blurt out ‘yes’. She was only so young, hadn’t even finished college yet, and as much as she loved animals she knew the pay for this job alone would not suit her financial needs.

Her taking in a child, human or otherwise, would _not_ work out well. Still, it wouldn’t be right to leave this kid to fend for himself either. “I can’t, but maybe someone else can.”

“You think so?”

“This _is_ an adoption center for animals and as far as dogs go, you’re pretty interesting already. Someone’s bound to want you...” She noticed how her awkward trailing off confused the pup. “Hang on. Do you have a name?”

Because if so then at least conversation with him would be easier, even if it also meant adoption might get messy...well, messi _er_.

The tiny dog shook his head. “Mm-mm, only rude-sounding names from someone who didn’t want to be near me.”

“Okay then, how about a name you can pick yourself?” Claire had to contain her squeals at the way the puppy once again perked at the offer, not to mention how his tail wagged even harder now. “In fact, I have a few books in my bag that I keep handy just in case kids need help naming their pets. Hang on!”

Minutes later, the two of them were seated at the table with an array of literature fanned out before the pair, a slightly licked spoon of peanut butter in the pup’s right paw. Claire picked up a thick red book with gold trimming, splayed it out on the table, and proceeded to flip through the pages.

“Let’s see now. Eh, Achilles, no. Ugh, _Adonis_. Agamemnon...,” she sneaked a glance at the dog’s incredulous face, “Yeah, I figured. Hmm no, no, no, no...”

In the meantime, the puppy observed how the human woman was the one commandeering the book and tossing out suggestions. He had no complaints, though, as he trusted her judgment. Besides, none of the names really fit anyway.

Until he saw it.

“That one!”

Claire started at the tiny paw clamped to the page then brought her face closer to read the referred name aloud.

_Hector._

“Hmm,” she turned to the dog child with a quizzical eye, “I guess you do look like a Hector, come to think of it.” She took a moment to read the finer details behind the name. “The meaning behind it is pretty interesting, too.”

Her companion, spoon now in his mouth, somehow managed to open a sizable black dictionary with his tiny paws and flip the pages until he found what he assumed to be his potential designation. His black brows furrowed at the findings.

“A bully,” he reiterated, voice muffled from the utensil and peanut butter, “to intimidate or dominate in a blustering way, and to behave like a—“

Claire switched the dictionary with her book posthaste. “No-no-no-no-no-no-no! Here, read this. And please don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Adjusting his glasses, the puppy pulled out the spoon and examined the name more properly. “Latinized form of the Greek name belonging to a Trojan champion, later killed by Achilles. Derives from _hektor_ which means ‘holding fast’. Apparently it’s also the name of King Arthur’s stepfather.” He turned to Claire. “Who is King Arthur?”

The woman shrugged her shoulders. “A legendary ruler. I can get you the book on his story if you want.” She crossed her arms over the table, curious. “So? What do you think?”

A moment passed as the pup stared at the name with great intent. Something about it instilled in him strength, importance, like he could become something more. It filled his mind with images of an adult him triumphing over every obstacle the world had to offer, coming out on top flawlessly.

There and then, the puppy knew the title worthy of his potential. He faced Claire with a grand smile.

“It’s perfect!” 


End file.
